


Never Alone

by Marasa



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Established Relationship, F/M, Found Family, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Polyamory, Protective Steve Harrington, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:49:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: Steve kicks up the leaves on the sidewalk. The brisk wind brushes his face softly. In the hushed cold of the quickly approaching winter is something inherently still and lonely.He has good days. He has bad days.He doesn’t know what kind of day it’s been.





	Never Alone

Steve’s been walking home from school lately.

His car runs fine. He has money for gas.

It’s just that the quiet fall weather quells the anxieties of his mind better than driving down small town streets ever could. 

Steve kicks up the leaves on the sidewalk. The brisk wind brushes his face softly. In the hushed cold of the quickly approaching winter is something inherently still and lonely.

He has good days. He has bad days.

He doesn’t know what kind of day it’s been. 

Steve tries to convince himself that this past week’s been fine but he’s been having trouble sleeping and he hasn’t been eating well and his entire waking hours feel surreal and alienating.

He feels alone. 

He keeps this to himself and doesn’t tell Jonathan or Nancy. He doesn’t want to worry them; they’re dealing with their own shit.

All of them all are.

Another gust of unforgiving wind whips against him and Steve sighs a warm breath as his only defense. 

He might just be tired.

Steve lifts his head as he steps onto his driveway and thinks for a second that what he’s seeing ahead of him is some kind of hallucination brought on by said exhaustion.

Dustin is sitting on the curb in front of Steve’s house. His head is down, expression hidden under the bill of his baseball hat.

“Hey, dork,” Steve says, “why aren’t you with the other dweebs?”

Dustin startles at the break of fall silence. He whips his head upward and only then does Steve see that he’s crying.

In less than half a second, Dustin’s standing and stumbling forward, practically tripping over his untied laces before landing against Steve’s front and clinging to him in a tight, teary hug. 

Steve follows his first instinct and rapidly scans the surroundings for any sign of a monster or something supernatural terrorizing the kid. Only towering trees and quaint homes surround them, all of which are creepy in their own mundane way.

Okay. Everything’s okay.

Steve looks down.

Everything is not okay.

Dustin’s shoulders shake against the cold and in general upset. He cries with his face hidden in Steve’s denim jacket in a mix of embarrassment and needed comfort. 

“Shh, hey,” Steve tries, admittedly unsure, but the kid is too upset.

He wishes he was better at things like this. Steve’s felt useless many times in his life and this is definitely up there.

“Let’s just, get inside, okay? C’mon, you’re okay.”

Dustin wipes viciously at his eyes. He swallows a few hiccups. Steve says nothing about the wet spots left on his jacket and instead pats Dustin awkwardly on the back before leading him inside. 

Steve’s house used to look like the Byers’ or the Wheeler’s: busy, lively, loud.

He used to play with his toys in the living room when he was young, race around the coffee table while his father read in his armchair and his mother watered pots of lush flowers by the window.

There was laughter then. There’s been laughter since, just not with his parents.

Dustin sits at the breakfast table. There’s dust on the placemat in front of him.

Steve doesn’t consider himself to actually be ‘living’ here. Unlit rooms, empty hallways, plaster, brick; that kind of stuff made a building but not a home.

He sleeps here most nights. Sleeps. Does not, ‘live.’

Steve pulls out a mug from the kitchen cupboard and a pack of hot chocolate mix from the pantry.

His mom used to do this for him whenever he was having a bad day. That was back when his parents still cared about him.

King or not, there were apparently a million different people and places better than Steve could ever be for them. It still bothers him now. He gets a confusing knot of sorrowful anger forming in his chest whenever he thinks about his parents. 

The microwave beeps. 

He takes out the steaming mug of milk and mixes the chocolate powder in it. Before he carries it to the table, he grabs a large marshmallow from a bag in the pantry and drops it in.

Steve holds the mug out a little awkwardly to the boy. He’s almost afraid Dustin won’t take it but then the kid reaches out with a shaky hand, tears still drying on his cheeks.

“So,” Steve sighs as he sits in the chair next to his, “what’s going on?”

Dustin keeps his eyes on the marshmallow melting in his mug.

“...Someone at school messing with you?” Steve tries. “A girl?”

The boy’s chin wrinkles like he’s going to cry again just thinking about it. He shakes his head.

Steve exhales deeply, a headache forming behind his eyes. 

“Buddy, you have to talk to me.”

Steve waits in long silence for an answer and just when he’s about to give up on expecting one, Dustin begins to speak so softly that he almost misses it. 

“M- My mom’s new boyfriend.” Dustin looks down at his hands like he feels guilty about what he’s about to say. “He’s… an asshole. He’s always yelling over everything and, and…”

A tear falls down his cheek.

Steve’s protective instinct hits him full force.

He needs specific details. He needs names: first, middle and last. He needs to make sure Dustin never steps foot in the same room as whoever this fucking asshole is who made him cry ever again.

He’ll make fucking sure of it.

“He yells,” Steve says, trying to stay calm for the kid’s sake, “but that’s all, right?”

Silence.

Steve’s stomach aches.

“Dustin, did he hurt you? Did he hit you, tell me-“

“Not too hard,” Dustin mumbles. “Just pushed me. I… just wanted to get out of there.”

“And this just happened?”

The boy nods. 

“And this hasn’t happened before?”

Dustin won’t look at him.

Steve runs a shaky hand through his hair and tries to make sense of all this. His fingers tighten at the back of his neck. His eyes tear up momentarily from the pain or maybe it’s from the trembling of his nerves, the hurt in his chest, the ache in his head.

Dustin wipes his nose with his sleeve. 

Steve forces himself to breathe and sets his fury aside so he can better try to remedy the sad sight before him. 

“Okay, how about this,” Steve says finally. “We meet up with the party for a movie night over at Will’s. And Jonathan can make dinner. How does that sound?”

Dustin shrugs. He nods.

The sniffling doesn’t stop the entire car ride to the Byers’. It’s the only sound taking the place of the kid’s usual stupid jokes and nerdy talk.

Steve reaches into the glove box and offers him a tissue. 

“It’ll be okay, Dustin,” Steve says when they’re stopped at a red light. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel. “I promise.”

Jonathan looks more than a little surprised when he opens the door. He blinks at the unannounced sight and after a whole three seconds of silence says, “Steve?”

Then he looks down at the boy standing close to his boyfriend, practically hiding behind him.

“Hey, Dustin. Is everything okay?”

He must catch the faint redness of Dustin’s eyes and wetness of his lashes. Embarrassed and ashamed, Dustin steps a little further behind Steve and nods.

It’s not at all convincing.

The small smile Steve gives isn’t convincing either. He hopes it’s convincing enough to not worry the kid anymore than he already is. 

“Steve. Dustin,” Nancy says as she peeks over Jonathan’s shoulder. Steve didn’t know she was here but he’s so glad she is. “Get out of the cold, guys. Come in.”

Nancy’s so good with the kids. All of them.

She can tell that something’s wrong, of course she can tell, but she knows better than to bring it up at the moment. Instead, she pats Dustin’s arm and smiles warmly at him before leading him into the living room to watch some TV.

The two men watch from the kitchen. Just as Jonathan is about to ask what’s going on, Steve steps forward and hugs his boyfriend. 

“Sorry we showed up unannounced,” he whispers.

“It’s no problem,” Jonathan says, arms going to wrap around his slender waist. “You’re always welcome here.”

Steve turns his face into Jonathan’s neck. The smell of his aftershave is as delicious as it is comforting. 

Familiar. Warm.

It smells like home.

“I told him you’d make dinner,” Steve mumbles against his boyfriend’s jugular.

Jonathan chuckles. He brings a hand up to rest on the back of Steve’s neck. “I can do that. Enough for the whole party?”

“Preferably.”

Steve lets go at the sound of Nancy entering the room. She places a hand on his cheek and guides him to her. He wraps his arms around his girlfriend and shuts his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?”

Nancy’s voice is soft and careful in the way of pure safety. Only now does Steve realize just how much he needs it. He’s scared, he thinks, about the whole situation.

The upset of having someone hurt your family, the fury one has for an abuser, the regret of not somehow being there to defend them. All Steve can think about is how that is his family, his little brother, his son, that that man put his hands on.

And Steve wasn’t there.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice cracking.

Nancy presses a  kisses under his ear. “I love you.”

Steve tightens his arms around her.

Jonathan puts on a pot of water to boil and proceeds to take out a few cans of tomato sauce from the pantry.

Both his partners give him a nervous look as he runs a hand through his hair. Admittedly, he feels more than a little frazzled.

“Hey.” Steve stands at the entrance of the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket because he doesn’t know where else to put them. “I was gonna go pick up the other dorks but I can stay if you want me to. Nancy could go get them, it’s not a problem-“

“It’s okay,” Dustin murmurs.

Steve lingers, unsure if he should truly go. For Dustin’s sake but also his own as his nerves are still shaky with the thought of something happening once again while he’s away.

He wasn’t there. He failed to protect.

“Steve, we’ll be okay,” Nancy assures softly from the kitchen. Her expression promises the boy’s protection in his absence. 

Steve forces himself to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth as he walks out the door. 

The kids are outside the arcade when Steve pulls up. 

They’re laughing and bickering, surely about the high scores they’ve just achieved inside. Steve rolls down his window and sticks his head out. 

“Get in, losers. We’re having dinner at the Byers’.”

“What’re we having?” Mike asks without even moving, like if it’s something he’s not in the mood for, he’ll skip out altogether.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Spaghetti.”

The kids all make a shrill noise of excitement and hurry to the car, fighting over who gets to open the doors and who gets to sit where.

Only when they all have their seatbelts on does Steve pull out of the parking lot and start the drive back home. 

“Where’s Dustin?” Max asks from seat directly behind him.

“He wasn’t at the arcade,” Will says from the passenger seat. 

“We gotta pick him up,” Lucas says diagonally behind Steve.

“Listen up.” The kids are quiet for once to listen to what Steve has to say. “Dustin’s already at the Byers’. We can all talk about it at some point but right now, Dustin just needs you guys to be there for him. Can you do that?”

They nod enthusiastically and murmur their total agreement.

A lump of sentimentality forms in Steve’s throat. He clears it quietly, a warm smile on his face as he drives forward.

Jonathan has the spaghetti sauce done by the time they all walk in. Nancy is there beside him cutting up a loaf of toasted French bread.

The kids are gone into the living room in search of their friend. Their considerate greetings can be heard adjacently as is their suggestion to start a movie before dinner. 

The sound of a slight commotion has Steve poking his head into the room. They’re all crowded around the movie shelf, fighting over which movie to watch.

“Hey, dummies!” They look up. “You’re being too loud. Dustin gets to pick the movie because the rest of you can’t use your inside voices.”

That’s not the reason at all but it’s subtle enough to not raise too many eyebrows.

The rest of the little hellions back off and Steve watches Dustin smile victoriously as he holds up a VHS of Ghostbusters.

They call the kids in to make their plates once the food’s done. Nothing is ever easy with them. They’re shoving a little as they crowd the counters, somehow making it a competition or race.

Steve ignores them to instead hover close but not annoyingly so to Dustin so he can make sure he’s settled.

“Can I have some more spaghetti sauce on the side?” Dustin says, pointing to the empty space next to his garlic bread.

“Yeah, of course, bud. Tell me when.”

The kids hurry off to the living room, piled high plates balanced in their hands. Steve turns and immediately blushes at Jonathan and Nancy’s dual smiles of fondness. 

“You need to eat too,” Nancy says when he begins moving away from the kitchen empty-handed.

“I’m fine.”

“Please, Steve,” Jonathan says. “You need to eat.”

Steve sighs quietly. 

The three of them sit at the table together sharing stories of school over plates of spaghetti. Jonathan tells them about a new project his photography teacher assigned. Nancy has them all laughing with a story about a new kid in her class.

Steve doesn’t really talk and they don’t make him. 

This is good. It’s domestic. 

Steve can imagine himself doing this with the two loves of his life for the next fifty years. 

Jonathan makes them a pot of coffee after they’ve cleared their plates. They sit discussing menial but comforting things at the dinner table while the kids go off to play a board game in Will’s room.

Mike swipes a single sleeve of cookies from the kitchen counter and runs down the hall with the rest of his friends before their babysitters can call after him.

The quiet that follows is intimate. The voices of his two lovers brings him a sense of comfort but still, an underlying anxiety and fear nags at him.

“Steve.”

He looks up to Nancy sitting to his right. Steve’s finger previously tapping nervously on the side of his mug stills.

“What happened with Dustin?”

Steve’s chin twitches. He furrows his brow in consideration and rising anger as he remembers the situation. 

“U-Um.” Steve clears his throat. “Dustin’s mom’s boyfriend was yelling and ended up pushing him. Apparently it’s happened before. The kid was really upset. He was crying when I saw him.”

”Steve,” Nancy says, worried and heartbroken.

“You know what?” Steve shifts restlessly in his seat, now worked up. “That asshole’s probably still at his house. Me and Jonathan should go over there right now-“

“Steve, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jonathan says. 

“No, Jon, we can-“

“Baby,” Nancy soothes as she strokes his cheek, “breathe.”

Steve’s further argument dies in a pathetic whimper deep in his throat. He leans his face into her palm and Jonathan gives his own soft sound of concern across from him. 

“If he ever messes with Dustin again-“ Steve hisses through gritted teeth. 

Nancy rests her head on his shoulder. The very tip of her nose nudges his neck.

Steve takes a steadying breath. 

He didn’t know it would get to him this much.

Of course he would be upset that anyone would hurt one of his kids but he thought he would be stronger than this.

He feels just as lost as Dustin probably does.

“I don’t want him to hurt,” Steve murmurs. “I don’t want any of them to hurt.”

“And you’re so wonderful for that,” Nancy says.

“You’re their hero,” Jonathan says.

Steve doesn’t feel like it. He feels powerless. 

Jonathan slides his warm coffee mug to the side and places his hands on the table in front of him. 

“There was this one night when I was twelve,” Jonathan begins. “My dad had been drinking. He was yelling at my mom and he, he looked like he was gonna hit her. I stood in front of her. He hit me instead. I felt so alone and so betrayed, not only by him but by everyone. It was like the world had shifted and it was me against everyone and everything. Family is supposed to look out for each other, but here was my father, fucking hitting me.”

Steve reaches out to hold his hand. Jonathan squeezes his fingers.

“I would have given anything to have someone be there for me that night. Someone to look out for me. Someone to be on  _ my  _ side.” Jonathan looks at Steve. “You did that for Dustin tonight. You made him feel safe. You looked after him. You made sure he knew he wasn’t alone in this. You’re such a great man, Steve.”

He tries to keep it together but everything bothering him from the past week and the problems presented today all catches up to him. 

Steve holds his face in his hands and cries.

There’s a warm hand on his bicep, a thumb stroking back and forth. Jonathan’s soft whispers of comfort sound across from him. A slender arm wraps around his shoulders. Nancy kisses chastely at his shoulder.

“We’ll talk to Hopper,” she says. “We’ll let him know what’s going on. He’ll take care of it.”

The quiet sound of footsteps pattering down the hall has both Nancy and Jonathan looking up.

“Hey, buddy,” Jonathan says to his brother standing in the doorway. “What’s up?”

Will shifts on his feet shyly, unsure of whether or not now is a good time considering the scene.

“Can we have more cookies?” he murmurs, trying not to stare at his babysitter currently crying quietly into his hands.

“Only two more each,” Nancy says, rising to grab another sleeve of cookies from the counter. 

In the meantime, Jonathan comes around the table to sit next to him. He holds Steve’s forearms and begins placing kisses across the backs of his hands, desperate to break through and comfort him.

It takes a few minutes before Steve leans his head back, exhausted but crying mostly done. 

Jonathan leans in and they kiss softly, so much love radiating through the contact that it almost has Steve breaking into tears again.

“Dustin can stay tonight if he wants to,” Jonathan says, wiping the tears from Steve’s cheeks. “Will can lend him some pajamas. We’ll figure this out. We’ll keep him safe.”

Steve nods, wiping his face of any remaining evidence of his weeping.

A few cups of coffee and plenty of stories later and it’s time for the kids to go home. Nancy goes to fetch them from Will’s room. Steve stands from the table the same time Jonathan does. 

Cried out and exhausted from the day’s events, Steve yawns as his boyfriend turns to him. 

“Go to my room, sweetheart. I’ll take the kids home.”

Jonathan kisses Steve again and a litany of exaggerated aww’s and gags sound from the entrance of the kitchen. Steve rolls his eyes but smiles.

“Bye, pests,” he says, dismissive yet fond.

He’s expecting them to leave with their usual show of affection, that being raised middle fingers and intentionally obnoxious expressions tossed his way.

Instead, they all come forward and wrap their arms around him in a sincere group hug. 

Steve blinks.

“We were informed you were in need of assistance, party member,” Mike says.

Steve looks to Will on his left. The boy smiles shyly before hiding his face further in his side. 

“Thank you, guys,” Steve says softly as to not give away the way his voice is shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I really appreciate it.”

They hug him tighter and he hugs them back, for once in the past few weeks feeling part of a family.


End file.
